


Acts of Love

by bluedragoninamber



Series: No One Is An Island [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, Interspecies Awkwardness, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Sex, Light BDSM, M/M, PWP, Sexual Experimentation, Switching, Voyeurism, alien erogenous zones, dirty talk (at least as far as these two understand it), first time masturbation, jedi behaving badly, learning what it means to love someone, lots of feels, no order 66, philosophy about love and why clones have souls, private bonding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:35:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7162649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluedragoninamber/pseuds/bluedragoninamber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Plo Koon and Wolffe reach a turning point in their relationship...and find they're not so different after all.</p><p>*Chapter 2-In which Obi-Wan provides Plo with a sexual manual, and Plo and Wolffe make good use of the information!*</p><p>*Chapter 3-In which a particularly dark day of the war drives Wolffe to offer Plo something a little different...leading to unexpected pleasure and revelations in the midst of their shared grief.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Soul Mates

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ylevihs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ylevihs/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Quiet Evening](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6941227) by [Ylevihs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ylevihs/pseuds/Ylevihs). 
  * Inspired by [Wolffe's Scars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7130246) by [kristsune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristsune/pseuds/kristsune). 



** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

 **AN** **: This story is a gift for Ylevihs. It was directly inspired by her amazing story “A Quiet Evening,” and I recommend reading that one first. I see that one as taking place before mine, and it helps to orient you to the details involved in the slash pairing of Plo/Wolffe. The story is set in my “everybody lives, nobody dies” universe, so there will be no Order 66. With her permission, I have borrowed liberally from Ylevihs regarding her ideas of Plo’s sexual anatomy. I have also added in ideas of my own in constructing Kel Dor cultural traditions, taboos, and deities. The idea of “wind spirits” was inspired by what brief information is available about Kel Dor on Wookiepedia. The bonding that happens here along with the thoughts about the nature of love are all mine (if you borrow them, it would be nice if you would give me credit and let me know). Warnings for intercultural and interspecies misunderstandings, angst, lots of feels and, oh yeah, a somewhat different idea of oral sex. Rated explicit because it’s just really strange and some people don’t like that. And remember that the Kel Dor have four fingers on each hand, not five. Ylevihs, I lay this one in your lap…along with the blame for me utterly falling in love with this couple.**   

            Plo Koon watched Wolffe with eyes brimming with affection…eyes that Wolffe would never be able to see. He knew the other man wasn’t asleep, merely getting his breath back after coming hard in his general’s arms. It had been a rough battle for both of them, and Plo had been more than happy to pull the other man down into his lap and give him exactly what they both craved when they’d finally made it back to their quarters after a debriefing that had run on for far too long.

            At least the casualty list had been short this time.

            Plo put the thought from his mind as Wolffe stirred, opening warm brown eyes to stare at him. As always, for all the pleasure and caring he saw there, there was a shadow of something wistful…even sad. The Jedi had no idea as to what caused that look in Wolffe’s eyes, but it bothered him too much to ignore. If there was something he could do to make Wolffe as happy as he was, he would do it. Plo just hoped with all his heart that it was something that was within his power to give.

            When Wolffe’s hand reached for his abdomen, preparing to stroke him into arousal again, Plo gently caught his hand in his. As always, he was extremely careful of his talons. They were sharp enough to cut Wolffe, and the one time that Plo had slipped and caused bloody scrapes on Wolffe’s arms, Plo had practically shattered at the realization that he had injured his partner. To the Kel Dor, injuring one’s romantic partner was an unforgivable offense. In an odd reversal of roles, Wolffe had held Plo that night, reassuring him over and over again that it was okay; they were just tiny scrapes that Jedi healing had taken care of with a moment’s thought. But finally, Wolffe had figured out what Plo needed to hear…words of forgiveness. And it was those words that had eased Plo’s heart at last…the assurance that he would not lose the man who had come to mean so much to him.

            In that moment, Plo Koon understood what it meant to fall in love.

            Wolffe looked surprised as Plo stopped his hand. “You don’t want anymore?” Wolffe asked softly.

            Plo heard the hurt in his voice and hastened to reassure him. “It’s not that, Wolffe. Not at all. I just have a question for you.”

            Wolffe looked at him curiously.

            “I have always hoped that you and I are…happy…together. Yet, whenever I look at you, there is a shadow of sadness in your eyes.” Plo paused, squeezing the hand he held very gently. “I want to take away that sadness, but I don’t know how.”

            Wolffe sighed. For a time, he was silent, and Plo wondered if his partner was going to answer him at all. Finally, he spoke.

            “For all that you and I are the same, we’re really different too. I’ve read every scrap of information available about Kel Dor and your people in the database, but despite all I’ve read, there’s still a huge difference in reading it on a screen and actually experiencing it.” He rubbed his temples in a gesture that Plo knew meant he was searching for words. “You don’t react the way that more human-like species do, and human-like species are the main ones that I’ve associated with…and the only ones I’ve engaged in…intimate activities with.”

            Wolffe was beet red as he continued. “When we…are together, you don’t give me the usual clues and signals that would otherwise let me know that you’re enjoying what we do…that you’re getting as much pleasure from it as I am. I worry that you’re simply doing it to make me happy…that I’ll never be able to give you what one of your own people could give you…the kind of pleasure that you deserve.”

            The silence that followed was oppressive. Plo stared down at Wolffe, too stunned to move. He had his answer at last…an obvious one, if he’d surfaced long enough from the nearly drugged state of completion that he’d been immersed in since the very first night he’d taken Wolffe to his bed to think matters through clearly.

            But love made blissful fools of everyone…even him. The idea that his partner thought that Plo got nothing from their intimacy made his heart hurt and his soul ache to make things right between them. With a swiftness that startled Wolffe, Plo reached out and caught his partner in a tight embrace, twining around him with a desperation that caught Wolffe by surprise, considering how calm and serene Plo always seemed to be.

            Plo spoke softly, very close to Wolffe’s ear. “It distresses me…more than…more than I have words to express…to know that I have somehow not given you what you needed from me. I can assure you, my Wolffe, that every bit of pleasure you give me, I fully experience.”

            Wolffe stroked the four fingers of Plo’s hand. “Truly? You…like what we do? I’ve always worried because I know our bodies just don’t work the same.” Plo felt a rush of protectiveness for the other man as Wolffe looked both earnest and embarrassed at the same time. “I’m always worried that you wish I was like you so that you could have the pleasure of a body made like yours.”

            Plo exhaled with a trifle more force than he would normally have used. “My Wolffe, you don’t seem to understand. I do not want one of my own people.” He paused, tracing the dear, familiar face with careful fingers. “I want you…only you.” He turned his head away slightly in a movement that Wolffe was only beginning to learn indicated uncertainty. “It would seem that you and I do share, at least, something of the same fears.” His voice was barely audible. “I have always worried that you would rather have someone of your own kind…that one day you would discard me for someone more like you.”

            Wolffe went stiff in his arms. “You thought that I would discard you?” He shook his head in vigorous denial. “No! I would never do that!” Wolffe’s brown eyes were wide. “I…I love you, Plo.”

            Quite suddenly, there was silence. Embarassed at blurting out his feelings, Wolffe buried his head against Plo’s shoulder, using his partner’s body as a shield from the hidden eyes he could not see yet could feel as surely as if he saw them.

            Plo stared down at his partner, speechless. He was familiar with declarations of love, second-hand at least, and he’d occasionally heard such declarations exchanged between romantic partners. He recalled several weeks previous when he’d heard Obi-Wan, upon finding Cody unharmed after a fierce battle, saying those words to Cody. Obi-Wan had said those words to him fully aware that Plo was watching them, and Plo had easily read the challenge and defiance when Obi-Wan turned to look at him, daring him to say something…about the Jedi…about the Code…about so many things that no longer seemed to apply to them. Plo had held up his hand in a dismissive gesture and bowed his head, and Obi-Wan’s face had relaxed into a smile just before Cody reclaimed his attention to kiss him senseless.

            Somehow, Plo had never given a thought to the idea of hearing those words from Wolffe.

            It was not the way of the Kel Dor to express that particular feeling with words, but Plo had come to realize that, for others, it was very much the way of things…that it was often a turning point in a relationship when partners exchanged such words. Clearly, it was also an exceedingly vulnerable experience. Wolffe radiated embarrassment, anxiety…Plo stopped short when he sensed his partner’s fear.

            “Wolffe? My Wolffe, look at me.” The other man lifted his head. “Why are you so afraid? Your words just now”…he searched for the right description…”what you said means a great deal to me…a very great deal.”

          Wolffe sighed. “I’m guessing this is another one of those cultural differences. Do your people understand those words the way I do? Do you…do you admit to love?”

            Plo inhaled sharply, reaching out to pull Wolffe closer. Again, he searched for words to explain. Wolffe did not, could not know, that Plo had resolved, in that moment, to cross a line that for a Kel Dor could not be uncrossed…at least if Wolffe reacted the way he hoped he would.

            Plo spoke very quietly. “My people don’t have a word for love…but not because we don’t acknowledge it or believe in it. That couldn’t be less the case. Rather, on my world, love is considered such an overwhelming, brilliantly-consuming concept that no word could even begin to describe it. Instead, when we wish to express those feelings to our partner, we use a gesture.”

            Plo interlocked his two hands, the four fingers of one with the four fingers of the other, then moved them in a circle, out toward Wolffe, three times.

            “This is what we see as the reality of love, souls entwined and the three circles for the past, the present, and the future. We believe that falling in love, as you call it, is simply a matter of coming to recognize what has always been, what is, and what will always be. Our mortal minds cannot comprehend this, limited as they are, but our immortal souls have the capacity to gain the wisdom that our minds cannot perceive. And so, in our own time, we find those to whom our heart calls, and our souls recognize each other at last…and rejoice.”

            Wolffe stared wide-eyed at his partner. “But I’m a clone. How can I have a soul?”

            Plo said with great conviction, “You love. Love is the seat of the soul. The way we come into this world is always an act of creation. Creation, though sometimes violent and disturbing, is at its very being an act of love…an act of adding to existence. And my soul recognized yours the very first moment we touched.”

            Now, it was Wolffe’s turn to search for words as he slowly realized the depth of what Plo had explained. He swallowed with a suddenly dry throat, at a loss as to how to respond.

            Finally, he said, “This gesture that you just made, is it ever made by partners together?”

            Plo’s tone was profoundly serious. “Yes. Partners interlock their hands and make it first toward one of them then the other.”

            Very quietly, Wolffe asked, “And if they do that, what does it mean?”

            The other man was very still. “It means that the feeling is mutual…and it is understood to be permanent. Under the law of my people, it cannot be undone.”

            Wolffe pressed on. “Does it require witnesses?”

            Plo resembled a statue. “No. There is often a formal ceremony later, but the assertion of the partners involved that it occurred is sufficient to attest to its validity.”

            Wolffe paused a long moment, and Plo was certain that he had never seen such a depth of love from another being in his life. His breathing caught for a moment when Wolffe, slowly and with great solemnity, extended his hands.

            “Can we do this with both hands? Is that acceptable?”

            Plo felt suddenly breathless. “Yes. Yes, we can. Cross your hands at the wrists, and I will do the same.” Plo felt a tug in the depth of his being as Wolffe entwined his hands with Plo’s own. Despite Plo having four fingers on each hand to Wolffe’s five, they fit together perfectly. It was Wolffe who started the movement, circling their crossed and joined hands three times toward Plo.

            “I love you,” Wolffe said softly.

            Plo realized Wolffe’s hands were trembling…and then he realized that his were too. Feeling rightness in the Force overwhelming him, he circled their crossed and joined hands three times back toward Wolffe.

            “I love you,” Plo said, and his words had the finality of a vow. His people didn’t require the words, but Wolffe’s people did…and Wolffe’s people were his people now. That was enough for him.

            For a moment, they just stared at each other. And then, Wolffe was moving, coaxing Plo to lie down on his back with his head propped on the pillows. It was a position they slept in but had never made love in before (Plo was usually sitting up with Wolffe on his lap), and Plo was curious when Wolffe moved farther down the bed, drawing Plo’s legs apart to settle between them.

            “I want to try something different, love,” Wolffe said, smiling, his eyes shining like the dark jewels so prized on Plo’s world.

            Plo’s breath caught. He groped for words. It was the first time Wolffe had called him “love,” and he decided that he would never get tired of hearing it.

            “Whatever you want,” Plo managed to say. Anticipating Wolffe’s next words, he assured him, “I’ll tell you if there’s a problem.”

            Wolffe grinned. “I hope there won’t be.”

            Plo watched in absorbed curiosity as Wolffe leaned over him. To his surprise, instead of reaching for Plo’s lower abdomen, where his sexual organs were concealed, with his hands, he used his lips and…oh by the wind spirits…his tongue. That was an organ that Plo had never imagined having against his skin. Excruciatingly slowly, Wolffe licked a wet path down his chest, stopping to suck and mouth with his lips before returning to licking. By the time Wolffe finally made it to that special patch of skin, Plo’s organs were wildly…interested…in the proceedings. One more long lick from his tongue, and they were all out…and utterly out of Plo’s control.

            But Plo nearly stopped breathing altogether when Wolffe, with exquisite gentleness and care, licked each one of them with his tongue before delicately taking them into his mouth. Plo’s hands clawed at the sheets, fighting the urge to be so uncouth as to cry out during love-making, something civilized Kel Dor never did. He was certainly aware that Wolffe had teeth, but it was clear that, thanks to a great deal of effort on Wolffe’s part, his teeth didn’t so much as graze Plo’s sensitive organs…Plo wasn’t even sure if he would have noticed it if they had.

            He’d been inside Wolffe many times, and his body enjoyed the other man’s heat and warmth very much. But being inside his partner’s mouth was so different…warm and naturally wet and oh…ecstasy…it was the only word he could find before he gave up thinking altogether. Wolffe lapped around each of Plo’s organs with his tongue, sucking only slightly, clearly suspecting that they were more fragile than his own cock. And with each gentle suck and delicate embrace with his tongue, Plo came a little more undone.

            His organs thrashed more and more wildly, and Plo fought harder and harder against the drive to shout, to scream, to swear to the wind spirits themselves as his bonded partner drove him higher and higher toward his climax. But it was a battle he was destined to lose.

            One final twist of Wolffe’s tongue, and Plo was screaming in a mishmash of Basic and his own mother tongue, swearing to the spirits and any other deity who might be listening and coming hard before Wolffe’s captivated eyes, all control and restraint wrenched away, utterly abandoned to his pleasure as he came in Wolffe’s mouth.

            For several moments, Plo was unaware of anything save for his labored breathing as his body sought to calm himself. Then he felt Wolffe’s hands stroking his chest soothingly, anchoring him as he tried to regain his equilibrium. His fluids glistened around his partner’s mouth, and he watched in wonder as Wolffe licked his lips.

            “I like the taste,” Wolffe said as he smirked down at him.

            Plo’s clear amazement made Wolffe hastily stifle a laugh. “You weren’t…you weren’t repulsed?” He found himself at a loss. “Among my people, even the idea of swallowing sexual fluids would be considered uncivilized.”

            Wolffe smiled. “There’s another difference. Among my people, it’s perfectly okay. Some people enjoy it; some don’t.” He smirked again. “I definitely enjoyed it…and you clearly enjoyed me doing it.”

            Plo fiddled with his talons in a way that Wolffe knew was a sign of embarrassment.

            “I must apologize for my…outburst…at the end. I should have had better control of myself,” Plo said, his voice soft as he waited for the censure to appear in Wolffe’s eyes.

            It never did. Wolffe’s shock took Plo completely by surprise.

            “You’re embarrassed over that? You think you offended me?” Wolffe’s voice broke in a chuckle before he shifted, coaxing Plo to sit up so he could settle himself into his partner’s lap. “Oh love, you don’t realize how amazing it was to have you lose control like that!”

            “What?” Plo asked, startled out of politeness. “You liked that? But I was uncouth, savage…on Dorin, my behavior would have resulted in my partner avoiding me for at least a week, possibly longer.”

            Wolffe’s eyes were wide. “So that’s why you’re so quiet when we make love? Some sort of cultural taboo?”

            Bewildered, Plo simply nodded. Wolffe’s arms wrapping around him and drawing him close were unexpected but welcome.

            “Love, all these past months we’ve been together, I’ve been hoping that I might finally figure out how to make you do that. This is one of those differing reaction that I mentioned earlier. For people like me, we use physical signs from our partner to judge whether our partner is enjoying themselves…what feels good, what doesn’t…even if something we’re doing is hurting them.” Wolffe paused, staring up to where he knew Plo’s eyes were. “It’s been especially difficult for me because we also read expressions in our eyes. But that’s not possible with you and me.”

            Plo inhaled sharply as he understood what Wolffe was saying. “So my physical reaction communicated my pleasure to you?”

            Wolffe’s grin was absolutely wicked. “Yes, love. It told me that you were out of your mind with pleasure…pleasure that I had caused…pleasure so overwhelming that you completely lost control of yourself .” He stroked his hands gently over Plo’s arms. “I’m more than willing to respect your cultural taboos, and if you never let yourself react that way again, I will still be happy. But I will not pretend to be offended by it, and I will treasure it.”

            Plo was silent for a moment. Then, he softly said, “I am more than willing to break my cultural taboos for you.” He hesitated, and Wolffe would have said Plo looked shy…something he had thought the man incapable of. “It will not be easy for me, but I suspect that you will be willing to help me with that.”

            Wolffe laughed. “It will be my pleasure, love.” His laugh tapered off, and his brown eyes turned serious. “It means the world to me that you are willing to do that…all to make me happy.”

            Plo drew Wolffe as close as he could get him. “My Wolffe, you are my partner, bonded and joined. By the ways of my people, we exist to make each other happy. It is the destiny of bondmates.”

            Wolffe blinked rapidly, but several tears still broke free to slip down his face. Careful of his talons, Plo reached out and wiped them away.

            Beyond words, Wolffe crossed his hands at the wrists and extended them toward Plo. Plo mirrored him, and he led them through the affirmation.

            They sat in silence for a long time, hands entwined, knowing there was nothing more they needed.

            This was enough.


	2. Experiments

** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

** AN ** **: I had not intended to continue this story, but someone commented on Ylevih’s original story (read that one first please) that Plo really needed a human sexual manual to learn his way around Wolffe’s body. That comment gave birth to this chapter. In time, it follows directly after the first chapter, give or take a week or two. I’ve used some of the information found in Wookiepedia for the Kel Dor for some of what happens here. The rest I have made up. Warning for alien sex, sexual experimentation, and light BDSM. All fully consensual and all PWP. This story could be continued if I get the right inspiration.**

            Plo Koon had to admit that, as far as awkward conversations went, this was one of the most awkward that he had ever had.

            Obi-Wan looked at him with an incredulous expression.

            “Plo, I’d guessed that you and Wolffe had become what Cody and I are. But somehow, I never imagined that you’d come to me for advice about sex.” Obi-Wan smiled bemusedly. “Shouldn’t you be asking Wolffe about this?”

            Plo shook his head. “My bonded partner is reticent in the extreme when it comes to such things. Whatever I do seems to be fine with him. He rarely asks for what he wants. I only just found out that my people’s taboos have been interfering with his enjoyment of our relationship.”

            “I see. Well that definitely could be a problem that needs dealing with….wait a minute! Did you just say, bonded partner?” Obi-Wan stared at Plo. “The two of you really did it, didn’t you?”

            Plo’s response was steady and confident. “Yes, we did, Obi-Wan. Do you have a problem with that?” There was an edge of defiance in his voice, but Plo decided that he liked that feeling a great deal. After all, hadn’t Obi-Wan done the same thing to him a few weeks ago?

            Obi-Wan burst out laughing. “I never thought I’d see the day that you would beat me to defiance of the Code!” He calmed, but his smile remained. “But it’s good to see you finally taking your happiness where you can find it. I think you’re good for each other.”

            Plo nodded. “And I thank you for that. However, that being said, is there any way that you can aid me in my endeavor?”

            Obi-Wan laughed again. “By the stars, Wolffe needs to teach you how to talk about sex properly…though I suppose that if he hasn’t helped much with this, he won’t be helping much with that either.” Obi-Wan picked up a data pad and keyed in a series of access codes. “You might start here. For lack of a better term, it’s a sexual manual specifically covering humans. I’ve marked the sections about male/male relations. That should at least give you a good overview of everything including what all the parts are and what they do as well as some different things you can try.”

            Plo exhaled in relief. “Thank you, Obi-Wan. I am most grateful.”

            Obi-Wan considered him thoughtfully. “I might also suggest that you have protective covers made for your talons. There’s a great deal of interesting things that you could do with your talons if you simply made sure that they wouldn’t hurt Wolffe.”

            Plo reached into the fold of his robe and pulled out a pouch. “That is one thing that I have already done. I received them yesterday, and I intend to put them to good use once I have studied this information that you have given me.”

            Obi-Wan smiled. “Wolffe is a very lucky man, Plo.”

            Plo shook his head. “No, Obi-Wan, I am the lucky one.”

            It was several days before Plo was ready to try out some of his new techniques with Wolffe. They were both in a good mood, having just fought a battle in which, for once, none of their people had died. Plo Force-locked their quarters and immediately stripped off his armor and clothing, and Wolffe grinned at him and disrobed as quickly as his partner.

            “How do you want me?” Wolffe asked, his tone eager.

            Plo pulled Wolffe down gently beside him. “My Wolffe, I would like to experiment a bit tonight. I am aware that I am not particularly adept in my knowledge of human anatomy, so I inquired for help from a friend of mine. His assistance was most beneficial. Thus, there are some activities that I want to try with you.” He glanced away briefly. “I am aware that you may not enjoy them, or I may not even do them correctly. Please, if that is the case, say something and let me know.”

            Wolffe radiated surprise and affection. “You did all that just to find new ways to please me?”

            Plo sighed, drawing his fingers gently down his partner’s face. “You are my bonded partner, and I live to make you happy. I will keep telling you that until you believe me.”

            Wolffe blushed, and he watched as Plo slid the new covers over his talons.

            “This will make it easier for me to touch you without hurting you,” Plo said.

            Wolffe’s eyes lit up with pleasure. “Good. I don’t think I could bear for you to be upset again like you were before.”

            Plo drew his covered talons down the sides of Wolffe’s face gently, then with more pressure, and he was pleased when his partner was unharmed afterward. Indeed, Wolffe was arching into his touch already like a feline creature craving affection.

            “I love it when you touch me,” Wolffe said, lying down immediately when Plo nudged him onto his back and straddled his waist. That position in and of itself was new and pleasantly distracting, and Wolffe’s cock was already taking notice. “Never want you to stop touching me.”

            Plo stroked his talons over every bit of his partner’s skin. “I’m glad to hear that. I enjoy touching you like this.” He caressed his neck. “And this.” He traced his collarbone. “And especially this.” He took Wolffe’s nipples between his talons, and the texture of the material covering them made Wolffe whimper with pleasure.

            “So good,” Wolffe managed to say as Plo’s fingers made their way lower, lingering briefly to tease at his navel and stroke down his sides. Then, slowing his pace and increasing his caution, Plo let his talons graze Wolffe’s cock.

            Wolffe gasped, his head falling back as he arched up into Plo’s hold. “Good or bad?” Plo asked softly.

            “Good! Oh, so good!” The slight scrape of Plo’s talons, just discernible beneath the covers, was nothing like the smoothness of Plo’s fingers when he’d taken Wolffe in hand before. This was the sort of pleasure-pain that Wolffe craved, and somehow, Plo had found a way to safely give it to him.

            Plo quickly realized how much his partner was enjoying the new sensations and wasted no time speeding up his strokes, twisting, tugging, and pulling as Wolffe writhed helplessly beneath him. One last twist and Wolffe was coming all over Plo’s stomach.

            Wolffe blushed bright red when he saw the mess he’d made of his partner. “I’m sorry, Plo. I meant to warn you, but I just couldn’t control myself.” He smiled, and Plo’s breath caught at the lewdness in that expression. Wolffe had never looked at him like that before, and he found it very appealing.

            “Actually, I liked it a great deal…being marked by you like that,” Plo admitted. He remembered the text that Obi-Wan had given him and decided to try what the text had called “dirty talk.”

            “But now you must come here and put your tongue to good use.” Plo’s tone was that of command, not as a general to his men, but as a master to his naughty padawan. “Clean up the mess you made!” It was awkward to talk to Wolffe as though he was a recalcitrant youngling, and among the Kel Dor, his partner wouldn’t have tolerated it. But Plo watched what he knew to be a shiver of pleasure pass through Wolffe even as a smile that was perilously close to a leer crossed his face, and he realized his partner was enjoying it immensely.

            “Yes, Master,” Wolffe said, shifting to his stomach and starting to lick the come into his mouth. He stopped once to look up at Plo and smirk.

            Plo felt a thrill travel through his entire being as Wolffe called him “Master” with his own come glistening on his lips. Plo would never would have thought to do this before. His people tended to see things in black and white, and even the mildest “role play,” such as it was, would never have occurred to them. It crossed lines that the Kel Dor saw as necessary to the proper functioning of society…lines that Plo found it easier and easier to cross as his bond with his utterly improper partner strengthened.

            Wolffe finally finished his work, licking his lips to catch the last of his come. Through long lashes, he gazed up at Plo.

            “What is your command, Master?” His smirk was at odds with his deferential tone. Plo tried to decide which he preferred and found that he couldn’t choose. That Wolffe was submissive, he knew. That Wolffe was capable of being defiant, he had not known. Both aspects of his partner were highly appealing, but it was that submissive side that he wanted now.

            “On your back and spread your legs,” he ordered, and Wolffe obeyed instantly, pulling his knees up and holding them in place with his arms. Now, Plo could see clearly what the sex guide had referred to. Until now, Wolffe had always prepared himself for their activities. Now, with his sharp talons covered, Plo took great pleasure in gently stretching his partner, making sure, as the text had instructed him, to use plenty of lubrication. Though he knew that his own organs provided some of their own, he suspected that Wolffe had occasionally been uncomfortable from their activities though he had never said a word.

            What the text had not fully prepared him for was how sensitive Wolffe was in that area. In a mere handful of minutes, his partner was nearly thrashing against the bed, the caress of Plo’s talons against his puckered entrance nearly too much to bear. But Plo wasn’t finished yet. With the lubrication, he found it easy to slip his fingers inside his partner, finding his way to that spot that he had encountered only by accident before. He knew the name for it now, and he also knew just how mad with pleasure it drove Wolffe.

            Tonight was no exception.

            Wolffe would have thrown Plo off him if the Jedi had not used a touch of the Force to pin him down. As it was, what had started out as pleas and curses in Basic had become incoherent exclamation in Kaminoan and the bit of Kel Dorian that Plo had thus far taught Wolffe to speak. Plo never imagined what it would be like to hear his mother tongue falling from his alien partner’s lips at the height of pleasure, and what Wolffe gasped next shattered Plo’s control.

            “Master, please!” he cried out…but the words came out in Kel Dorian. Plo’s breath caught, and, withdrawing his fingers, he surged forward, surrendering to his passion as he let it overrule his mind and guide his body. Unerringly, his organs slipped into Wolffe’s eager body, and he released the Force hold on Wolffe so that they could cling to each other as they rode out the waves of their pleasure. Wolffe’s questing hands were all over him, restlessly caressing his skin, until they made it to the protruding organs that surrounded his head. They were uncovered since he was not on duty when they needed to be protected. It had never occurred to either Plo or Wolffe them to touch them during sex. For the Kel Dor, one simply did not touch one’s head organs except to wash them, and Plo had always done his best to ignore the tingles of pleasure that came with that innocent touch.

            Wolffe’s touches were anything but innocent. Plo gasped when his partner’s calloused fingers hesitantly, then with more confidence, caressed the hypersensitive skin of his head organs. The gasp became a moan and then a full-blown keening cry as Wolffe realized that he’d just inadvertently discovered a Kel Dor erogenous zone and set to making the most of his discovery. He touched and caressed and finally let the edge of his short nails scrape the oddly textured organs that felt so warm in his hands. As Plo drove him ever higher, his organs buried inside him even as they did their best to all stimulate his prostate at once, Wolffe took the chance to envelope Plo’s closest head organ in his mouth, using his tongue to block his teeth and sucking gently.

            Plo’s scream melded with Wolffe’s own as they tumbled into their climax together, nothing in their minds but pleasure, nothing in their hearts but each other. It was a good ten minutes before they returned to their senses.

            “Master?” Wolffe mumbled, untangling himself enough from his partner to sit up. “Are you okay?”

            Plo lifted his head and mumbled something that sounded like his native tongue, but they were words that Plo had not yet taught him. Wolffe shook his head.

            “Can you manage Basic, Master?” Wolffe asked. “You and I haven’t gotten that far in our language lessons yet.”

            Plo glanced away sheepishly and finally managed to sit up. “You have given me pleasure enough to shock me back into my birth tongue, Wolffe. You should take that as the compliment it is.”

            Wolffe laughed. “And if you hadn’t decided to experiment in the first place, I would never have found a Kel Dor erogenous zone.” His humor turned solemn for a moment. “It didn’t bother you for me to do that, did it? I know you enjoyed it, but I was worried it was another one of your people’s taboos.”

            Plo laughed. “It is, and now I understand why. But the key word in your statement is “was.” I think that you and I have just shattered that taboo so thoroughly that it will never cause trouble for me again.” He reached out, pulling Wolffe against him. “Thank you.”

            For a moment, they simply relaxed until Wolffe said, “I didn’t realize you would like it so much when I called you Master.”

            Plo absently stroked Wolffe’s arms. “I didn’t expect it myself. It was simply a suggestion from the text I read. But I did enjoy it.” He paused. “Did you mind? Did it offend you?”

            Wolffe shook his head. “Hardly. I enjoyed it too.” He blushed, staring down at his hands. “In fact, I actually thought of myself dressed like one of your Jedi padawans with a braid on the side of my head and you commanding me.”

            Plo’s hands instantly stilled on Wolffe’s arms. “If you keep talking like that, my Wolffe, we may find out if we’re ready for round two.” He shifted his bonded back onto his lap. “Don’t tempt me unless you’re prepared for the consequences.”

            Wolffe’s low chuckle sent a thrill through Plo. “Let it never be said that I was unwilling to suffer the consequences of my behavior…Master.”

            As Plo pulled Wolffe against him, he decided he owed Obi-Wan a really big favor.

            Wolffe’s hands found their way to his head organs again.

            Plo’s last coherent thought was that he didn’t owe Obi-Wan just one really big favor. He owed him two.


	3. Light In Darkness

** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

** AN ** **: When I said that in this series nobody dies, I meant that no main characters die. But other nameless clones, unfortunately, yes. I’ve already written about this event in my Mace/Ponds story, and I encourage you to read it to see how other Jedi/clone pairs are dealing with it. I’m going to be writing about this same event in my Obi-Wan/Cody story. Anyway, the idea is that there was an ambush that somehow caught all the units of clones in one place, and many died despite the Jedi attempting to save them all. What follows is the aftermath. The idea that Plo can change the atmosphere in his quarters to enable him to remove his mask is mostly canon. I have conveniently ignored the issue of Plo needing his mask in order to speak audibly; it doesn’t apply in this story series. For the record, I am also ignoring the rapid aging of the clones (which is canon) and the relatively short life expectancy of Plo Koon’s Kel Dor species (which is legends canon, according to Wookieepedia). Warning for light BDSM (fully consensual) with switching (dominant Wolffe/submissive Plo) as well as masturbation (by Plo) and voyeurism (by Wolffe).**

            Wolffe sealed his helmet before entering the quarters he shared with Plo. After the day’s tragedy, Wolffe was barely functioning himself, and Wolffe knew that Plo would take it as hard as he was, perhaps harder. Once they’d realized that it was an ambush, the Jedi had gone, to the clones’ minds, absolutely mad trying to save as many men as possible. He’d never seen his partner in what the clones called “battle frenzy” quite to that extent, wielding his lightsaber and the mysterious Force in equal measure as he cut down enemy after enemy. By the time it was over, there was a huge gap in the clones’ numbers, and Wolffe wasn’t the only one who’d had to literally carry his Jedi off the battlefield, not due to injuries but rather due to something perilously close to psychic shock.

            Though it was not a complicated process, Plo rarely changed the air in their quarters so that he could breathe without his mask. He’d never done it when Wolffe was around to see. But today, he had, and Wolffe did not begrudge it to him. He felt the tears on his own cheeks and wondered just how Kel Dor mourned.

            When Wolffe entered their quarters, he found the lights low and Plo in a position that Wolffe had as of yet not seen. The Kel Dor was sitting on the bed draped in a robe, his arms wrapped around his bent knees as he buried his head in them. Wolffe heard the strange sound…not sobbing…more like keening…that emanated from his lover. His shoulders were shaking in time with the heartbroken sound.

            “Oh Plo,” Wolffe said. “Don’t lose yourself to grief and guilt. You did all you could…more than we could ever have asked of you; you and all the Jedi damn near killed yourselves trying to save us.”

            Wolffe sat down on their bed, awkward due to the armor he wore. With one gloved hand, he reached out to stroke Plo’s closest head organ. He kept his touch light and gentle, only intending to comfort, not arouse. Finally, Plo lifted his head and looked at Wolffe.

            Wolffe gasped. For the first time, he could see his lover’s eyes. Without his rebreather, Plo’s face was unusual, but Wolffe cared little about that. Plo’s eyes held him in thrall. The black and silver orbs were absolutely breathtaking, and Wolffe found himself speaking before he thought.

            “You’re beautiful.”

            Plo shook his head. “How can you even say that? After today?”

            Wolffe held Plo’s gaze, thinking that he would never get enough of looking into his partner’s eyes.

            “I can say that especially after today,” Wolffe countered. “Today, I watched the man I love offer everything he had to save me and as many of my brothers as possible.” He stroked his hand down Plo’s face. “I could never ask more of you than you offered to me and mine and ours today.”

            “We lost so many members of our family,” Plo said softly.

            Wolffe swallowed audibly. “We did. And we will mourn them and grieve them, but then, we will go on. We will do that because that is what they would want us to do. That way, their sacrifice will mean something.”

            Plo’s eyes held his. “The Jedi Code says that there is no death, only the Force.”

            Wolffe sighed. “I don’t pretend to understand your Force, Plo. But if that is truly the case, then, when you and I eventually die, we will look for them there.”

            For a few moments, neither man said anything. Wolffe knew far too well how heavy the burden of guilt would be for Plo. All of Plo’s clones thought of him as a father figure, and Wolffe knew that Plo loved them all like his sons. Wolffe had been bred as a soldier. He loved all his brothers, and he would deeply grieve those they had lost. But the ability to let go was a fact of clone life. Service, blind loyalty, and death was what a clone was taught to expect. From what he knew of the Jedi, detachment was part of their training as well. However, Jedi training had never been meant to create soldiers. As Wolffe had overhead General Kenobi saying to Plo once, the Code had been intended for peacetime. It had no place in a war. As far as Wolffe could tell, the reluctant Jedi soldiers were managing the best they could and doing a fine job of it, all things considered, in Wolffe’s admittedly biased opinion.

            But that didn’t help Wolffe now. He had to break the terrible hold Plo’s guilt had on him. As Wolffe sat there staring into Plo’s eyes, he noticed the covers on Plo’s talons. That, in turn, reminded him of the main reason Plo had the covers and just what had happened between them the first night he’d worn them. They’d continued to play like that frequently, with Plo as the dominant master and Wolffe as his submissive. Plo had also diligently continued learning more about human sexual practices, and he had suggested to Wolffe that he would be willing to switch their roles, if Wolffe was interested.

            Wolffe thought the situation over one more time, stared into his partner’s anguished eyes, and decided that there was nothing to lose.

            “Plo, will you obey me?” Wolffe asked.

            Plo startled. “I will listen of course, my Wolffe.”

            Wolffe shook his head. “That’s not what I asked. I asked if you would obey me.” He gave the statement an imperious edge, hoping Plo would understand what he was offering.

            Plo’s eyes widened slightly. “I will obey you…Master.” The muscles of Plo’s face that were usually covered by his mask relaxed slightly. “What is your command?”

            Wolffe squared his shoulders. He wasn’t keen on that title, but it would do well enough for this first time.

            “Strip.” He gave the word the snap of an order, and Plo obeyed instantly, unfastening the robe and letting it fall to the bed beneath him. Under the robe, he was nude.

            Wolffe sat there for several moments, letting his gaze rake over his partner’s body. Plo held perfectly still beneath the appraising stare.

            “Touch yourself.”

            Plo’s gasped, an odd sound without his mask. “Master, I don’t understand.”

            Wolffe glared. “You heard me, and you understand very well. Touch yourself!”

            That was an order, and Plo, with obvious reluctance, moved to obey. His hands slid over his body, one down to his abdomen, one up to his head organs.

            Wolffe watched him raptly. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

            Plo’s skin darkened slightly, and Wolffe realized that his partner was embarrassed.

            “No, Master. Kel Dor do not. Had I not read the material that Obi-Wan provided, I would not even have known what you were ordering me to do,” Plo said, even as his arousal became apparent. His organs were all out, cocooned in his hand as he played with them. He twisted and tugged his head organs roughly…too roughly for Wolffe’s comfort.

            “Enough!” he hissed. “This is not punishment!” Though his hand was awkwardly gloved, he reached out anyway and grabbed Plo’s hand. After a moment, he let go, and Plo went back to touching his organs, just more gently. Wolffe could tell that Plo was getting close as his partner’s eyes began to slip shut.

            “No! You will keep your eyes open!” Wolffe ordered, not willing to be denied the sight of Plo’s eyes lost in ecstasy. For his part, Wolffe was achingly hard, even within the confines of his armor and uniform, the sight of his partner pleasuring himself nearly too much to bear.

            Another moment, and Plo reached his breaking point. “Master?” He gasped for breath. “May I?”

            Wolffe burned the scene into his mind, how his partner looked, naked, flushed skin, sprawled across the bed, his silver eyes like starlight as he panted, chasing his pleasure to the very edge of his endurance.

            “Yes! Now!” Wolffe ordered, and he watched Plo come apart before his captivated eyes, hardly aware of his own cock spasming as he came with his partner. Plo kept his eyes wide open the entire time, and Wolffe thought that even a star going supernova could not be so beautiful as Plo’s eyes at the moment of his climax.

            It was several moments before either man said anything. Finally, they stirred.

            “Master?” Plo asked, his hand hovering at the room’s atmospheric controls as he reached for his mask.

            Wolffe nodded, not trusting his voice, and Plo changed the room back to standard air. As soon as the cycle was completed, Plo helped Wolffe remove his armor and then stripped him of his uniform blacks. The fresher stall was crowded for the two of them, but that just made everything better, sensually washing each other with gentle touches that calmed the fear and eased the grief still lingering in both of them. Plo dried them both, slipped one of his own robes around Wolffe, and put his own robe back on. Silently, he guided them to their bed, pulling Wolffe into his arms.

            They lay there in the dim light. Wolffe could smell Plo in the robe wrapped around him, and he cuddled further into the worn fabric and his partner’s arms. Wolffe shifted enough to cross his wrists and extend them to Plo. Plo’s hands caught and held his, and then he started the circling of their hands. Wolffe finished it.

            “I love you, Plo,” Wolffe said softly. “No matter how bad it gets, please don’t ever doubt that.” He felt the tremble that traveled from Plo’s hands to his own.

            “I won’t. But sometimes…sometimes, I need to be reminded.” Plo reached out and pulled Wolffe flush against him, unfastening both their robes so they lay skin to skin. “I think this is what loving means.”

            Wolffe smiled against his shoulder and said nothing more. In each other’s arms, they finally slept.


End file.
